


The Earth Died Screaming

by NarrowWoodsWriting



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Croatoan Virus, Earth Died Screaming, Endverse, F/M, Megstiel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 01:38:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14321706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NarrowWoodsWriting/pseuds/NarrowWoodsWriting
Summary: Despite best efforts to avoid the future that the angel Zachariah had shown Dean Winchester as a warning, he was unable to prevent them from eventually coming to pass, albeit under different circumstances. Sam became Lucifer's vessel, and Dean perished at his hands. Now without either of his friends, the angel Castiel is graceless and struggling to cope with what has become his reality. The world is filled with people ravaged by the Croatoan Virus, and things seem completely hopeless. Lucifer steals Death's scythe and his ring, rendering Death human, and gaining complete control over life and death on the planet.Meg, the demon, recognizes that Lucifer will not stop until he's destroyed the earth. With the help of Castiel and Death she sets her will to stopping the devil.Mostly plot with a heavy dose of Megstiel moments throughout. Mentions of drug and alcohol use. Originally written on Tumblr as part of Megstiel Week 2013 for Cypanache.





	1. Part One

_“And the Earth died screaming while I lay dreaming of you.” —Tom Waits_

 

August 24, 2014

Castiel didn’t consider himself lucky as the rest of Camp Chitaqua did. They didn’t say such things to his face, of course, but he could hear their whispers. Something had snapped inside him the day that Dean had died. He’d felt it, like someone had raked a tuning fork against his rib cage, right before a Croat he was fighting came at him with a busted up lead pipe. The feeling had distracted him and the pipe shot straight through his chest. He was a goner, or so he’d thought, but when nothing happened he pulled the pipe out and slammed it back into the chest of the Croat. 

He found, suddenly, that he was faster, his movements more fluid. Then when a demon came at him and, by instinct, he slammed their head into a wall and killed the demon with his bare hand…Well, he knew that something had changed. The rest of the battle was a blur, and then it was over. The remaining Croats and demons retreated and disappeared like cockroaches. Risa and a guy Castiel thought was named Thomas—or maybe it was John…He knew it was an apostle’s name—wondered out of a turn in the hallway. The man was limping and Risa was helping him along, one arm holding up a man that probably weighed almost double what she did. 

“Where’s Dean?” Risa’s voice was strained from the exertion of the fight and supporting Thomas-or-John’s weight. 

_Or was it Peter?_ Castiel thought to himself. _No…No. Definitely Thomas. The doubting one._ He turned and glared at the destruction and carnage around him. There were plenty of dead bodies lying around. None of them were Dean, of course. Castiel and the others had known that Dean had another plan entirely when they set out for this place. Dean had never intended there to be this much death. He made the plan clear to everyone; he was going to save his brother even if it meant that he had to kill him, or die trying. He’d asked all of them whether they were in or out, and they had all volunteered.

Once, a few years ago Dean had told Castiel about the time that Zachariah had supposedly sent him into the future. Dean was hell-bent never to become that version of himself, and from the way he’d described himself to Castiel, he hadn’t. He was honest with the people that followed him, he wasn’t cold-hearted. Just broken, and out of Dean’s own mouth, “That’s not the burden of anyone else but myself. No sense takin’ it out on the whole camp.”

This was different than what Dean had told Castiel about, definitely. There were more people in the camp, for one, than there had been in Zachariah’s version of the future. Women, children, the elderly. It was like Mayberry inside the borders of Camp Chitaqua. Outside the borders was getting pretty hairy. The world wasn’t totally overrun by the Croatoan virus, but it was certainly getting there. Better to be safe inside the camp than sorry. 

Castiel knew who he was, and who Zachariah’s future had portrayed him to be. Drug addled, alcoholic, womanizing had all seemed too far fetched for him. He drank, but not heavily. He never touched drugs, had to be quick thinking. He wasn’t interested in any women but one. He often thought about the dark haired girl, with the big brown eyes, and the darkness inside. When he had finally gotten out of Purgatory—just as the Earth was going to Hell—He tried to find her, to go to her, but she wasn’t anywhere to be found. He had known then that she was in Hell, that Crowley had her. Then when the devil took control he had thought she’d be freed, but that didn’t happen either. He had thought about falling into decadence then, but Dean had needed his help. He had to keep his head on straight, even if his heart were somewhere else. 

No, today wasn’t anything like Dean had said the future had been. Except, of course, that they were there to destroy Lucifer, even if that meant destroying Sam. Dean didn’t know whether they would get through the whole of the building before they found him, or if Dean would find him right away. One thing was for certain, though, and Dean had prepared them all for it. Dean would probably not survive the day. They would probably fail, but they had to try. 

Lucifer had taken Sam over as soon as he busted out of the hole. Castiel never accounted for the fact that once a vessel had said “yes” there was no going back. A “yes” was a “yes” forever. Castiel beat himself up. He should have thought about that. When a couple of upstart witches had managed to summon the devil, along with all the other Princes of Hell (Astaroth and Bael, being the only ones left since the death of Azazel), and Sam and Dean were too late to stop them, the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind that Sam would be vulnerable in that way. 

It had been over, and then…It just wasn’t. Castiel blamed only himself. 

“Cas?! Hello?! Where the hell is Dean?!” Risa’s voice broke Castiel out of his reverie, and his eyes snapped up to her face. 

“I…I don’t know,” his voice caught on the last word and he cleared his throat, “I haven’t seen him since we made it into the building.” They started moving as quickly as they could down the corridors back to the opening of the building. 

“Castiel, are you okay?” Risa asked, noticing the giant hole in the front of his shirt that was rimmed with half dried blood.

Castiel kept his eyes forward and tried to stay at a steady pace so that Risa could keep up with him while still helping Thomas, who was looking ever paler by the minute. “I’m perfectly fine, Risa. That’s what’s strange. I’m fine.” 

“I don’t get your meaning, but okay. Let’s just find Dean and get out of here.”

Castiel headed straight for the rose garden. That is where Dean had told him he’d died in Zachariah’s future, so it would make sense that should be the first place to check. As he rounded some hedges, and saw Dean’s legs lying prone, he knew. Castiel’s eyes closed tight and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. His head fell and he sank to his knees. Risa stopped short behind him, and he could hear her crying. Apparently, she and Dean truly did have a connection. He’d tried to do right by her. Risa knew this would happen eventually. Castiel pitied her, pitied himself, pitied Sam, and most of all pitied Dean. 

He was only half surprised when he found out that he could teleport himself, Risa, Thomas, and Dean’s body back to Camp Chitaqua. Castiel chalked it up to being close to Lucifer, who was, after all, still an angel. Chuck was in front of Dean’s cabin, as if he had been expecting them and he helped Risa get Thomas to the triage cabin they’d set up. He left Castiel with Dean. Castiel tried for hours to bring Dean back. His power was back, wasn’t it? Why wasn’t it working? Finally, despaired, he broke down silently sending every curse he could to God, wherever he might be. 

The pyre hadn’t taken as long to put together as Castiel had expected. Dean kept one built just in case, and it only needed a little bit of wood added for stability and it was ready. Castiel wrapped Dean in a sheet, placed him on top of the pyre and scattered salt all over and around him. Then he poured on the gasoline. They always siphoned off more than they needed for purposes such as this. Never knew when you’d need to get rid of a ghost, or give a hunter a proper funeral. 

The camp gathered at sunset. He could hear them whispering around him about how lucky he was, how lucky Risa and Thomas were, how sad it was that Dean had fallen at Lucifer’s hand. Some of them were crying, and some of them were praying (which Castiel thought to be completely bizarre, given that they knew who and what he was). He didn’t want this camp. He’d let Risa take over leadership.

He had kept his head on straight, for Dean. Now Dean was dead, Sam was as good as, and the only person he felt he could turn to without them was locked up somewhere in the Pit. His power was recharged, for whatever reason, but there was nothing productive that he could do with it. Decadence? That wouldn’t begin to cover what Castiel was about to do and become. 

————————————————————————————————————

October 13, 2024 01:03:25 PM

 

Her long, dark brown hair was down to her waist and singed at the ends, her fingernails—the ones that hadn’t recently been pulled off by Crowley’s preferred torturers—were in various stages of length and tatter, and when she was finally able to transport herself topside the afternoon sun hit her eyes sharply, making her squint. No doubt about it, this meat suit had been put through the ringer. The first thing she wanted to do was find Castiel, a pack of cigarettes, a case of beer and a quiet place to…Hell, to do anything that didn’t involve screaming. What she found back on Earth was something she didn’t expect.

The demon known to most as Meg found herself in the middle of a city street, but the buildings all looked abandoned. Cars were rusted out, parked haphazardly all over the blacktop. There was silence a’plenty, that was certain. It looked like the world had exploded. She found a phone, but there was no service. She didn’t really expect there to be. There was no power on anywhere. She found a calendar in what used to be a drugstore that read 2013. She’d been dragged back into Hell in 2012. She knew that it had to have been many years since then. If you added it all up in hell years she’d have been in Hell for roughly one-thousand and eight years. She did the math quickly in her head, figuring that it was about twelve years, at least, since she’d been gone.

She grabbed two big bags from a dusty shelf and started gathering things she wanted. Twelve year old cigarettes weren’t too bad, she figured, and she threw a couple of cartons into one of the bags, a pair of scissors to cut her hair, nail clippers and a file, a toothbrush and some toothpaste (no matter how old, it had to do something for the taste of sulfur in her mouth), and some soap and shampoo for whenever she found a place to bathe. Hell held a stench like no other place, and she wasn’t going to walk around smelling like it.

At the back of the store she found some refrigerators full of beer, but then she spotted an aisle full of wine. Two bottles…No. Three. I need it, she thought to herself as she stashed them away in the first bag with everything else. She wondered around the store for a little while longer, running over in her mind if there was anything else she might need. Deciding she didn’t she went back out into the street, the full bag of loot over her shoulder, the other in her hand. She headed towards the cars parked hither and tither in the roadway.

“Surely, one of these old shit heaps will still run,” she said aloud to herself. Silence was good, yes, but too much silence was driving her a little crazy. It was good to hear the sound of her voice outside of screams of pain. “That’s one thing ol’ Crowls had right. Torturing a demon inside their meat-suit is more painful…Ruddy old bastard.” As she got closer to the cars parked hither and tither across the roadway one in particular caught her eye; a 1969, electric blue, Cougar convertible. His eyes are blue, she thought. She fiddled with the wires under the steering column of the Cougar, striking them together until the engine turned. The floorboards of the car were a little rusted, but otherwise the thing ran beautifully. 

“I think you’re pretty enough to rival a certain Impala I know,” Meg patted the dashboard. She tried the radio, but it was dead, and so she found a cassette tape of The Eagles greatest hits, threw it into the deck and floored it, heading towards Rufus’ cabin to start her search for Castiel and the boys. There was a nagging thought in the back of her mind that if things had gotten bad enough for security in Hell to be lax, and for Earth to look like this, that she might not find them at all. She wouldn’t allow that thought to stick anywhere though. If the Winchesters were dead, she didn’t really mind. Castiel on the other hand…He’d better be alive. 

The whole time that she was in Hell all that she had thought about was Castiel’s fate. What had happened to him? Where was he? Was he happy? Was he safe? Was he sane? All of the torment—a thousand years worth—made easier by the thought of one angel. Then there were the days were she thought maybe she deserved to be punished. She was supposed to be on Hell’s side, not…Whatever side the Winchesters fell on. Castiel was a weakness, though. Her soft spot. She supposed that everyone had them, but in her case that soft spot was a big one. 

She imagined what she would say or do the next time she saw him. He would probably smile and tell her something about something that she never cared to know, but she’d act interested anyway. She’d tell him that she’d missed him, and maybe he’d say that he missed her. Maybe she could just collapse like she really wanted to, maybe she’d even cry (what a thought!), and maybe he’d hold her and tell her she was beautiful, loved, and safe with him, even though it would go against her nature to accept that fully. Part of her still liked it.

_Or maybe he’ll be dead_ , that nagging, despicable part of her brain whispered. 

“Shut up,” she growled, and drove on through the night. 

————————————————————————————————-

October 15, 2024 12:45:04 AM

Castiel cut the engine of the pickup he’d “borrowed” just in front of Rufus’ shack. He hadn’t needed to hot wire the thing. Just a snap of his fingers was enough to get the thing going. Some of his power was still lingering around, and he found he was using it for more and more flippant purposes. Why not? He grabbed the bags of liquor and dry cat food from the bed of the truck and stopped to light a cigarette before turning towards the side of the place he called home to crank the generator. Amazing that the thing still worked, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

Once inside, he set the liquor bottles out on the counter and used the “eeny, meeny, miney, mo” method of picking which one to throw back first. “Bourbon it is,” he said to no one. It had been a long time since Castiel was clinically insane, but after so much time alone, he supposed, one fell into old habits. He poured some kibbles in a bowl for his cat, who he’d aptly named “Cat”. It was good enough a name for Adam’s cat, why not for Castiel’s?

The phrase “why not” had become Castiel’s motto over the last ten years. Who was there to care what he did or didn’t do anyway? He was a busted up old angel with no charges, no purpose, and no one to talk to besides a raggedy old tabby. He couldn’t help but think that the small mammal was a great symbol for himself. Abandoned, alone, singular in a great big world that was overrun by maniacs who were slowly killing themselves off. He knew enough to know that the human race was slowly bouncing back. He didn’t know why, or how. He didn’t care. 

Lucifer was still out there somewhere. If Castiel knew anything about his older brother it was this; without human beings the devil would get bored. When you made your whole purpose for existing the pursuit of destruction of something you despise, and then you accomplish that, there isn’t much left for you but boredom. Castiel knew the feeling. His purpose hadn’t been to destroy, but to protect. He failed in his mission. Now he was more than bored, he was guilt-ridden. So, he drowned his guilt and pain in alcohol. That had been working pretty well for him for the past ten years. 

He managed to get his hands on prescription pills every now and then. The kind of stuff they gave him back at the mental hospital all those years ago. Dean had once told him that he thought the things kept him crazier than he otherwise would have been. Castiel had agreed with him, in part. They’d stripped away his faculties then, and they did the same thing now. He reached up into a cabinet above the sink and again his mantra came to mind, “Why not?”

He popped four of the amphetamine pills and washed them down with a draught of the bourbon, then thought again and popped two more. More bourbon. He threw himself down on the beat up couch, head at one end and feet kicked up on the arm rest on the other side, bourbon bottle still in hand. Cat jumped up on his legs and started kneading Castiel’s knee, claws sticking in the thinning fabric of his ripped up jeans. He only had two pairs of jeans left. When he’d left Chitaqua he’d taken Dean’s clothes. Nobody else would need them, now, he figured. 

He’d worn all the clothes ragged, but he couldn’t quite force himself to go get more. Wouldn’t be practical while he still had clothes that weren’t totally falling apart. Plus, Dean would be glad they were getting some use. Boots he’d go get more of, but clothes hunting took away from perfectly good drinking time. Castiel stared at Cat for a few more minutes before he finally got irritated with the animal clawing him, and he rolled over on his belly forcing the cat to jump off onto the floor. Castiel watched as Cat went after a mouse. 

“Ha. Cat and mouse,” he said giggling. “ _Oh_ , there it is…,” the last words he spoke were muffled as he turned his face to bury it in the couch cushion. He closed his eyes and sighed as the medication kicked in. He pushed himself up on his right arm and took another swig from the bourbon. He was about to put his face back down into the cushion when he noticed something. Someone was standing near the front door. He raised his head and, still balancing on his right elbow, waved at whoever it was. 

“Castiel,” the person said. It was a girl! Intriguing.

“Me,” he said sitting up and grinning at the girl. The grin melted off of his face slowly as he realized who the girl looked like. She had the wrong color eyes, though. His girl’s eyes were solid black. This girl’s eyes were chocolate brown. Still there was something showing through her in a strange way. _Smoke_. “You,” he said his voice breaking just a little.

The girl looked around the little cabin, noticing all the bottles on the counter and the one in his hand. She took in his disheveled appearance. The clothes he wore looked like they were a size too big for him, and he looked like he just didn’t care anymore. His face was dirty, as were his hands. She shook her head, “You’re still a little outside of your noggin’, I see. You gonna drink all that by yourself, big boy?”

“You’re not Meg. Not my Meg. Amphetamines have conjured up some hallucinations before, but baby, you take the cake,” he said standing, pointing, and moving towards her. He was a little wobbly on his feet, but he managed to make it over to her. He was still pointing a finger at her as he leaned his face down close to hers and for a second she saw the old Castiel. He drew his brows together and cocked his head to the side, squinting as if it would clear up that she was an illusion and that he could go about his business. 

When she didn’t disappear, and he continued to stare at her she startled him by letting out an exasperated sigh, “I drove as fast as I could to see if you or the boys were here and I find you like _this_.”

“Wait…You’re real?” Castiel leaned around her to the window to look out, and sure enough in dim moonlight he saw a blue muscle car sitting next to his beat up old Chevy truck. ”Nice wheels,” he said smiling broadly. He moved back to look at her closely, “You’re real, and you’re back, and you came to find me?”

She raised an eyebrow. He was different. Not crazy, just high and buzzed. She reached up slowly and touched his face feeling stubble underneath her fingertips. His eyes widened a little at the contact, and then he was picking her up off of the floor holding her tightly around the waist.

He buried his face in her hair and started laughing almost hysterically, “I’d given up on you. I’m sorry.” He pulled back and there was a wet shimmer in his eyes. Even though he was still laughing, it appeared he was crying at the same time. 

She could feel her eyes widening in surprise at his reaction, and then something like a twig snapped in her chest. She didn’t cry like she was afraid of. She didn’t break down. She was angry that this person she cared about had been broken even more than before. She was angry that she had been taken and tortured. She was just angry. She was also tired, relieved, finally somewhere she considered safe. The safest place. She wrapped her arms around his neck and said through clenched teeth, “We’re gonna be okay, Clarence.” 

—————————————————————————————————————

October 15, 2024 03:23:52 AM 

 

Meg had sat quietly next to Castiel on the couch as he filled her in on everything that happened after she was taken. He told her about being trapped in Purgatory with Dean. How Dean had escaped before him, and how finally he’d been rescued by the boys just before Lucifer’s return. He told her of the time in Chitaqua fighting Croatoans with Dean, all the while trying to get Sam back, somehow. He’d been through the bottle of bourbon, and half a bottle of tequila while he was telling her of all these events, and when the subject of Dean’s death came up he polished off the tequila in a few gulps. He told her what had happened, how Dean had died, how he’d burned his corpse, and how he’d ended up back at Rufus’ cabin. 

“If I was going to be alone, then fuck…I was going to be alone,” he said, winking at her. His voice was slightly slurred as he fumbled over the words. He moved to stand up to get another bottle, but sat right back down, accidentally. He laughed, then rolled his head languidly to look at her “Ha! Well, damn it. Sea legs…”

“I think I'm gonna need a drink, too,” she said taking the empty tequila bottle from him and walking into the kitchen. She threw the bottle in the trash, grabbed a bottle of vodka from the counter and walked back over to sit next to Castiel the couch. “Jesus…Lot’a shit happened while I was downstairs,” Meg opened the bottle and took a long swig before handing it to Castiel. She reached down and pulled her shoes off pulling her feet up under her, her knees resting on Castiel’s leg.

“That’s gonna go to sleep, ya know? Your feet. Circulation is…Weird,” Castiel said poking at her thigh. 

“Lucifer is still out there, though. Right?” she said ignoring him and grabbing the bottle back. She threw her head back and turned the bottle up, letting the liquor run down her throat. It burned, but not in the way that she was used to. I guess you can drink anything without flinching once you’re regularly forced to drink holy water, she thought.

“He is. He’s still out there being an asshat,” his shoulders shook a little as he took in the look of surprised amusement on her face. “What? I learned new curse words. I’d think you’d be proud. Gimme that…” he reached for the bottle and she snatched it backwards towards her.

“Hey. Mind your manners, mister…And I am sorta proud,” she said grinning, “Littlest angel finally grew him a pair all his own,” she took another sip of vodka and slowly passed him the bottle. 

“I’m not really an angel anymore,” his voice was flat, and his eyes had lost the joyful sparkle they’d held before. “I’m not anything, really. Just a piss-poor, useless, magician, compared to what I used to be.”

“You were powerful. You could be again—” 

“No,” he cut her off. The look in his eyes was hard, scary, and if Meg was honest, a little sexy. Or it would have been if he didn’t look so broken. Castiel could feel the pills he’d taken wearing off slowly. He was debating on taking more. “I can’t ever be what I once was. Who I once was. I’m sorry, but that Castiel is dead.”

“Right,” she said quietly, slightly nodding her head that she understood.

Castiel’s eyes fell, and then rose back to her face, their gaze a little softer now. He was searching for something inside her eyes, but Meg had no idea what. Finally, after a moment he asked, “So, when are you leaving to find him?”

“Find who?” Meg said, taking the bottle from Castiel and moving it toward her lips, confused for a moment, but then the answer hit her like a kick to the gut. He meant Lucifer. She slammed the glass bottle down on the coffee table in front of them. It hadn’t broken like she wanted it to, but the loud thud had startled Castiel, and made him angry, and that was good enough. “Cas, no. I told you a long time ago, you find a cause and you stick with it. Lucifer—”

“Was your cause _first_ , Meg,” Castiel said, firmly.

“Would you stop interrupting me, dammit, and listen to me? I made you my cause. I made taking Crowley out my cause. For all I know he’s still out there, too!!” she said, gesturing her hand towards the window.

“And don’t you want someone more powerful to—what was it…? ‘Go to bat for you’, than some broken, fucked up, alcoholic, ex-angel?!” he drawled out, the slur in his voice became more apparent as his anger rose.

“You know what, Clarence? I do!” she slung her legs out from underneath her and stood up swiftly, but her legs were, as Castiel had predicted, asleep. Her knees buckled and she fell into his lap, with an irritated squeak. He half caught her, arms wrapped awkwardly around her. Their faces were close, and they were angry, much like another time that flashed into Meg’s thoughts. She’d wanted him to kiss her back then, surrounded by a ring of holy fire, just to prove that she had really gotten under the angel of the Lord’s skin. He hadn’t, and instead threw her to the flames. He was more powerful than her; stronger than her. Then, once, he had kissed her much to her surprise. She wanted him to kiss her now for other reasons. Her anger waned, and she spoke more softly and more evenly, “I want you to balls up, and be as powerful as you know you _could_ be.” 

He frowned, closing his eyes, and his head dropped. It almost looked like he was in prayer, “I don’t know if I can be.” 

She kissed him on the forehead, softly but firmly, and when he raised his eyes to look at her she took his face in her hands, “I have faith in you, Castiel.” She leaned in slowly and quickly touched her lips to his. 

The fight was over, and slowly they finished off both of the other bottles of liquor Castiel had brought back. Meg put some records on the beat up turntable, and for the rest of the night they both laughed, they danced, they’d kiss, and they tried to forget the argument from earlier, the living nightmare they both lived through, and whatever the future might hold for them.

Neither one of them would remember just how they got there, but when the sun crept over the horizon for the one-and-a-half trillionth time it found a demon and an angel wrapped in sheets and each other’s arms both pretending they could sleep.

——————————————————————————————————— 

November 21, 2024 05:48:18 PM 

A few weeks had passed at Rufus’, and Meg and Castiel were still no closer to finding out why the human population was slowly coming back, except that the Croatoan virus didn’t seem to be active anywhere anymore. There were people moving back into the towns from the compounds that they had made. People were patching up storefronts, opening shops up, building and repairing homes. It seemed that life was returning to normal. The military were patrolling the streets, now, which made it harder to break in and get the supplies they needed, being that neither of them had a cent to their names. It was harder, but not impossible.

Castiel felt bad about stealing from people trying to rebuild their lives, but Meg had no such qualms. After all, it wasn’t like she was killing anyone, she was simply taking things that they wanted or needed. She didn’t feel any guilt, and besides, she made sure to take things that they wouldn’t miss. For one, bars closest to them hadn’t reopened yet. She supposed that the humans would want to, eventually, but it seemed none of them wanted to be the first to do it. Today she was on a liquor run; “hunters helper” Castiel had called it. He said that was what Dean used to say, and although Meg knew the thought of his old friend still broke his heart, he seemed to be handling it better since she was around. 

He doesn’t take the amphetamine pills anymore or drink as much, she thought as she drove the Cougar into town, at least there’s that. Castiel still had a habit, however, and if it eased his mind she’d do whatever she could for him. It was for this reason that she’d headed out to town that night.Night had fully fallen as she drove into the alley entrance of the bar nearest to Rufus’ cabin. It was a fifteen minute drive if you followed the old speed limit signs, but Meg usually made the trip in seven or eight minutes. The last time she had been there she’d rigged the latch so that she could open the door, slip in and out, and be gone within minutes. 

She opened the door and moved swiftly in the dark to the front of what was once The Goats Hoof Pub and Grill, and made her way behind the bar. She brought out an old burlap sack that she’d found at the cabin and started filling it with liquor bottles from the shelf and underneath the bar. Suddenly, the clink of the bottles knocking together in the bag was joined by another sound—music. Meg knew that the power was out to the bar. Hell, the power’s out to the whole town, her mind raced. 

“Black girl, black girl, don’t lie to me. Tell me where did you sleep last night?” she heard Sam Winchester’s voice sing along with the old Lead Belly tune. Meg stood up straighter, eyes wide, and slowly turned to face Lucifer. He made a clicking sound with his tongue, and then said sweetly, “Oh, my blackest little sheep. Where _were_ you last night? With a certain angel, I’m sure. Tell me, what areyour intentions with my little brother?”

“I wasn’t anywhere last night,” Meg knew that he could tell she was lying. 

“You can’t lie to the Father of All Lies, Azaelim. Or is it still ‘Meg’? Sticking with that earthly name, shacking up—quite literally—with an angel…You’re more human every day, my darling,” Lucifer took a few steps towards where she still stood frozen behind the bar. “Seems like you need a reminder of who you really are.”

“With all due respect, I don’t need reminding,” she said coolly. 

“Ah! That’s right! You just recently got back from Hell. Crowley _told_ me that he’d taken you. That was before I ripped his meat suit apart slowly, piece by piece, and then obliterated him. So, no more worries about him!” Lucifer wearing Sam’s face smiled like the cat that ate the canary.

_Cat_ , Meg’s thoughts whispered. _Cat needs food. Dammit!_

“You have a pet?” Lucifer said, sounding delighted. “How adorable! Are you planning on becoming a soccer mom, as well? Honestly, Cassie needs to let you off the choke chain.”

“I’m not on any chain. I can leave whenever I want,” that much was true. She could leave whenever she wanted to, she just _didn’t_ want to. “I was just having fun with the angel. I got comfortable.”

“I’m sure you did,” Lucifer purred. “Well!” he said clapping his hands together abruptly, “You certainly don’t need to worry about Crowley anymore, so you can come on home with me, and we’ll put you to good use! You can be my right hand gal again, Az—Meg…”

The wheels turned in her head. If Castiel came looking for her Lucifer would kill him. If she didn’t go with Lucifer now, he would kill her. Finally she made up her mind, “Let me…That is…Please, will you let me tell Castiel I’m leaving. If I don’t, the poor bastard’ll just follow me, and he’ll try to get in the way. He’s harmless. His wings are clipped, and he’s usually too drunk to be useful to anyone, anyway.”

Lucifer seemed amused, “You want to go say goodbye to your lover.” He laughed heartily, “Fine. You’d better be back here in an hour, and…Tell Castiel not to say I never did anything for him.” With that he was gone with the sound of fluttering wings.

“Fuck. Fuck..Fuck!!!” Meg grabbed the bag of liquor bottles and stormed out the back door to the Cougar. Cas is gonna need these bottles when I’m done, she thought sadly.

She turned the key in the ignition and set off for the cabin, “Fuck.”


	2. Parts Two and Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meg has to make a difficult choice, and Lucifer's true plan becomes clear. Castiel finds himself in a spiral, and receives a plea for help from someone unexpected. 
> 
>  
> 
> In an effort to avoid a too-short chapter, I'm consolidating Parts Two and Three.

_\---------------------------------------------------------------_

_"Baby, I've been here before. I've seen this room, and I've walked this floor. You know, I used to live alone before I knew you?" ~Jeff Buckley_

_\---------------------------------------------------------------_

__

**_November 21, 2024    06:04:03 PM_ **

Meg pulled up outside the cabin, cut the engine and sat there silently staring at the front door. Inside that cabin was an angel--no, inside that cabin there was a man. A man she cared about. She was just starting to see the light creep back into his eyes, and he was just starting to seem like he was somewhat alright. Not quite the powerful being that he was when they'd first met; full of holy fire and righteousness. He wasn't the mental patient he was when she'd last been separated from him. He was broken, but mending.   
  
She was about to break him again. She knew he would fall back into his ways. Worst of all, she would be adding to the list of people that had left him, and she was leaving intentionally. Well, not totally of her own accord. There was Lucifer's will to factor in, but that didn't matter to her feelings (when had she grown feelings, anyway?), and that wouldn't matter to Castiel's feelings either. She felt like she was about to chop off one of her hands. She wasn't sure what that feeling meant, but she knew that it was going to be horrible, messy, permanent, and there was no going back once it was done. 

She took a deep breath, that she really didn't need, grabbed the bag of liquor and she got out of the Cougar slowly. She shut her eyes as the door slammed shut, her nerves on edge. She couldn't explain it, but her hands were shaking. Such a human thing. Maybe Lucifer was right, at least about that. She had become too human because of Castiel. All feeling things caused was pain, guilt, grief, and regret. She'd managed to avoid it since her existence as a demon began. She'd loved someone once, sold her soul to save them. Look what that had gotten her. The guy had moved on before her body was cold, and she went through hundreds of years in Hell on the rack before Alistair made her an offer she couldn't refuse.  
  
The twelve second walk from the Cougar to the door of the shack felt like it took a lifetime. She mustered up her brass, and let herself in. Castiel was sitting on the edge of the couch, books in thirty languages strewn out over the coffee table. He'd been reading through them looking for any sort of prophecy or information on what could be going on with Lucifer, the recent population boom after the Croatoan virus was diminished, anything. Just at the moment though, he was playing with Cat, dangling a loose thread from his long sleeved shirt, and laughing as the little animal jumped for it. She had to work hard to keep her emotions from showing on her face, so he wouldn't see how upset she was.   
  
"Hey, Meg! Look at Cat! Funny thing...He's been doing this for thirty min..." he trailed off as he looked up at her and saw that she wasn't smiling. "You probably don't find it as amusing as I do. I'm sorry," he smiled and got up to meet her where she stood to kiss her. She leaned back away from him and turned her head away.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly. When she didn't answer and only continued to stare at the floor he asked again, his voice containing more concern, more of that old Castiel authority, "Meg, _what_ is wrong? Are you alright?"  
  
She swallowed hard and forced herself to meet his eyes. His eyebrows where knit together and his eyes were like blue fire. He wasn't angry with her, he was angry with whoever or whatever had upset her. _So much for hiding_ that, she thought. "I have to leave, Castiel. Tonight. I can't tell you where I'm going. Don't try to follow me," the words spilled out almost as if she hadn't had to force them out, but she had.  
  
He backed away from her a step, narrowing his gaze, "Is it because of this?" he said, tilting his head slightly to the side, as all of the lights and windows in the cabin shattered. There was the sound of Cat's claws scraping on wood as he ran to hide somewhere. He watched as Meg's eyes darted in shock around the suddenly dark room, then shot back to look at him. "Lucifer is in town. I could feel the power surge it gave me earlier this evening, just after you left. I...I had assumed that you would hide from him."  
  
"Cas, he caught me off guard. He can find me whenever he wants to. I'm a demon, for fucks sake!" she set the bag of bottles down hard on the little kitchen table. "There's about three days worth in here if you don't drink it too fast. I have to go, or he'll come after us both."  
  
"I could hide you," he said quietly, sounding defeated.  
  
"What? With angelic runes on my ribs? Yeah, that would hide me. Or maybe it would kill me! Come on, Clarence, use your brain," she snapped.  
  
"You haven't called me 'Clarence' for a long time," he sighed. "We could go anywhere." That wasn't a question. Just a simple, small statement that he hoped she would agree to.   
  
"Yeah, and why would I go anywhere with you, anyway? You'd be a liability. You never were good at laying low," she was starting to lay it on thick. If she really hurt him, he'd stop with trying to convince her there were other options. Of course, doing this was hurting her, too. She hitched up an eyebrow and smirked at him, "You were really good at laying on top, though."  
  
"Stop it," his voice was clipped, and dripped venom, and she could see that there were tears raising up in his crystal blue eyes.  
  
"You're the one that needs to cut it out," she looked at the time on the clock sitting on the counter. "I'm gone, baby, gone. Don't bother looking for me." With that she spun on her heel, and vanished out the door. A few seconds later Castiel heard the Cougar's engine crank, gravel flying, and then a rumble of acceleration fading into the distance. 

Castiel nodded his head slightly, letting tears roll down his face. Little did he know at that same moment cold tears were rolling down the cheeks of a demon that had not cried in over eight hundred years.    
  
  


**Part Three**  


_"I'd listen to the words he'd say, but in his voice I heard decay." ~ Nine Inch Nails_

**_\------------------------------------------------_ **

**_November 21, 2024    06:21:53 PM_ **

Lucifer stood outside of the shack and watched as Meg sped off in her car. He chuckled silently to himself knowing that what had gone down inside would send Castiel into a downward spiral. He wouldn't be interfering with his plans anytime soon. That was good. The last thing he needed was the angel who was always the Winchester's last hope coming after him. Somewhere deep down inside the meat suit, Sam squirmed. He seemed like he was mustering up his energy for something. It was pointless though. He'd made the slip once, and he wouldn't get the opportunity again.

With a flutter of wings, and the blink of an eye, Lucifer was back at The Goats Hoof, standing just off the curb, in the road, waiting for Meg to speed up in the Cougar. He'd never been in a car, and he didn't believe that today would be the day when that changed. A few minutes passed and the Cougar pulled up, stopping a few inches from Lucifer's knees. Meg got out of the car, her face red.  
  
"Now, now, there's no need to cry! I know you're overjoyed to be away from useless, old Castiel," he mocked, adding insult to injury.    
  
"We can go now," she said haltingly, gesturing towards the car.  
  
"Ditch it. Come here," he held out his arms. Were he anyone else it would almost seem to be a loving gesture. Meg reluctantly walked over to him and he pulled her in tightly in his arms. "See, this isn't so bad. I have a surprise for you!" then off of her look of confusion, "You'll see when we get there."  
  
She set her jaw, and swallowed hard, "Where are we going?"

Lucifer didn't answer her, instead he transported them to the parking lot of an old elementary school that people had made into a sort of hospital. The Croatoan virus wasn't active anymore, but people still got sick or injured, and they needed somewhere to go. "The person we're here to see is inside," he said. After a moment he smiled at her, "He knows we're here. He's on his way out to see us."  
  
"Wh--" before Meg could finish her question Lucifer was dragging her further away from the hospital, through a stand of trees and into a little clearing. Meg opened her mouth to say something else, but shut it again quickly when she saw who was following them through the opening in the trees.  
  
"Lucifer," Death said, his voice full of contempt, "I'm sure that it would be foolish of me to presume that you came here to deliver me back my scythe."  
  
"Absolutely not, though I have to say I didn't imagine that getting it away from you would be so easy. Crowley told me you seem to be getting slower in your old age. At least he was good for something when he wanted something in return, right Meg?" Meg simply looked back at him eyes wide. Lucifer sighed and placed a hand over where Sam's heart beat erratically. The boy inside knew what Lucifer planned to do with that scythe, knew if Lucifer failed then he would die along with him.   
  
"Your petty insults don't affect me, boy. Now, give me back my scythe, and we'll all have ourselves a lovely evening," Death scoffed, straightened the cuffs of his sleeves. Lucifer laughed, finally causing Death's expression to turn from emotionless to a sneer of anger, "You will give me back my scythe, or I will _take_ it back."  
  
Lucifer, still laughing, pulled the scythe out from inside his blazer. Meg's eyes widened and she slowly started backing away, towards the treeline, "Don't go far, Meg," Lucifer said, still grinning madly at Death, "You're going to want to see this, child." Meg froze in her tracks and resisted the survival instinct to crouch down low to the ground, instead she stood up straighter and wished she was anyone and anywhere else.  
  
"You cannot seriously be challenging me," Death growled through clenched teeth.  
  
Lucifer shook his head gripping the scythe tightly. The handle lit up fire hot, and then when Lucifer didn't drop it, froze to ice cold. These things only made Lucifer laugh, "This isn't a challenge, Horseman. This...This is an assassination."   
  
"You can't kill me, you pathetic little shit," but still, there was a look of something like worry on his face. Meg saw it and wondered what that could mean.   
  
Lucifer launched himself in the air, almost too fast for Meg to see, swinging the scythe. It made a sound as it cut through the air and stuck in Death's shoulder. There was a moment where nothing happened, and Death simply looked at his own scythe embedded in his shoulder, and then a grey mist started rising from the wound and leaking from the Horseman's eyes, nose, mouth and ears. Meg though it looked like mist over a highway after rain on a hot day, but there was some sort of dark light slightly illuminating it. A few moments passed and it was gone.   
  
Lucifer removed the scythe from Death's shoulder, and then bent down collecting the ring off of Death's finger, placing it on his own. "What doesn't kill you makes me stronger, old man," Lucifer said smacking Death's cheek.   
  
"You'll pay for this, Lucifer. I will reap you."  
  
"No, you won't," he leaned down close to Death's ear and whispered, "but it would sure be fun to watch you try, _human_." He stepped over the man and called back to Meg, "Finish him off if you want to, or just play with him. Have your fun. Meet me back at the hospital when you're done."  
  
Meg waited until Lucifer was outside the treeline and ran over to where Death lay. "What did he just do?" she didn't touch him, no matter what Lucifer had said she was still afraid his touch would kill her.

"He made me human," Death said weakly, "and he's got my ring _and_ my scythe. Lucifer has domain over life and death now."

Meg felt a shiver go down her spine, "What the hell does that mean?"

"He decides who lives and dies, or if there even will be such a thing as death anymore. He's trying to build back the human population for pets. Playthings. This ensures that if he doesn't want anyone to die they won't. If he doesn't want anyone to live, then everyone dies. One fell swoop," Death sat up holding his shoulder, and reached out for Meg to help him stand. When she hesitated he said, "It's alright, I'm human." She helped him stand, "You have to understand. I have to get my ring and my scythe back. This is going to throw everything into chaos."  
  
Meg's head shot up to the spot where Lucifer had gone back towards the hospital. She had a decision to make and she had to make it fast. She could go follow Lucifer and be a part of his plans or she could fight against him from the inside. She knew that once she had outlived her usefulness he could just kill her. That he _would_ kill her. What about Castiel? She wanted to get back to him. Tell him what was happening. Maybe he could do something? She turned her attention back to Death, "Get out of here. Fast. Go find Castiel. He's in Whitefish, Montana. Tell him I sent you for help. Tell him...Tell him I'm sorry."   
  
Death looked at her perplexed, "You want me to go find an angel, and tell him a demon sent me?"  
  
Meg rolled her eyes and huffed, "I know it sounds insane, but he cares about me and he'll help you. Now _go_!" Death gave her a last look before taking off through the woods in the opposite direction of the hospital. Meg started back the way they had come. She found Lucifer admiring the ring he'd stolen.  
  
"Lovely isn't it," he said as she approached. "Did you kill him?"  
  
"No, I let him go," she said, knowing that he would know if she was lying. She was afraid that he would see in her mind that she had sent him to find Castiel, but Lucifer seemed too distracted by his victory. _Pride_ , Meg thought wryly. "What are you going to do now?"  
  
Lucifer inhaled a deep breath into Sam's lungs, "Now...We have some fun."  
  
\------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
**_November 27, 2024    12:10:15 PM_**  

Snow was cold, and Castiel was enjoying it. A thick sheet of snow had fallen the night before and now he was lying in the middle of the yard just beyond the cabin's little porch. Every now and again he would raise his head up to take a swig of whiskey, and then drop his head back down. He raised a cigarette to his mouth and took the last drag off of it before putting it out in the snow next to five other cigarette butts. " _Tsss_ ," he said as the cigarette sizzled out, and he felt a lot like he was sizzling out. He groaned aloud at his own thoughts. If she were here she'd be kicking at him telling him to get his drunk ass up out of the snow, that he was being useless. He'd pull her down on top of him and...  
  
She wasn't here. She was off somewhere with Lucifer, doing whatever it is that they were doing. His mind went from assuming they were doing evil in general, to assuming there was something else going on between them and that made his stomach tilt. He dug his cigarettes out of his pocket and lit another one. He huffed blowing the smoke out.  
  
"Making snow angels? How droll," a man's voice said. Castiel shot up onto his elbows frowning at the stranger, and the slight spinning that the ground was doing.  
  
"I know you, don't I?" he climbed to his feet and took another drag off his cigarette. "You're the Horseman, Death. Am I...Dead?" Castiel looked down at himself, checking for wounds or pain.   
  
"No, you're quite alive, although..Are you intoxicated?" Castiel nodded slowly raising his eyebrows high. Death rubbed at his temples and pulled his jacket closer around him. "Do you mind if we go inside?" Castiel looked confused, but said nothing, and turned and shuffled into the cabin. "It's very dark in here, Castiel..."  
  
"No lights. I blew them all out the night--Never mind. Why are you here?" Castiel said, leaning wobbly with one hand on the kitchen counter.   
  
"A demon, sent me to find you. I need your--"  
  
"A demon?" Castiel's face brightened. "What did she say?"

"She was right. You _do_ care about her. Curious. She said I should come to you for help. That you can help me take down Lucifer and get my ring and my scythe...My power back," Death said seating himself at the kitchen table.

"Lucifer...He made you human. Lucifer has power over life and death?" Castiel was losing his buzz. He didn't like reality before he got drunk, and he was liking it less now that he was sobering up. "Meg said she wanted my help?"  
  
"She said to ask you to help me. Oh! She also said that she was 'sorry', whatever that means." Death rubbed his knees trying to get some of the soreness out. It had taken a few days of walking to get to Whitefish, and then another few days to find the cabin. Death _was_ feeling a bit old.

"She's sorry, and she thinks I can help," Castiel said to Cat who had curled up next to him on the counter. Death regarded him warily.  
  
"Are you sure that you're up to this, angel? It won't be easy." Castiel thought for a moment. His powers were strong around Lucifer, but he didn't know if he could be any match for the archangel. The last time they had come face-to-face Lucifer had snapped his fingers and he'd exploded into a million pieces, extinguishing his grace. If it weren't for God bringing him back that would have been the end of him. Death seemed to be able to sense Castiel's apprehension. "I'll make you a deal. Sweeten the pot, if you will. If you help me, I'll not only be able to kill Lucifer and free Sam, but..." Death hesitated. He knew he could do it, but he didn't want to make too many promises and indenture himself too much.

"But what?" Castiel said curiously.  
  
"I can bring Dean back."   
  
Castiel's eyes widened and he dropped the whiskey bottle. His knees buckled as it shattered to the floor, he looked up at Death and said with determination, "I'll help you."  
  
  



	3. Parts Four and Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Death get a lead on Lucifer's location after Meg interferes in Lucifer's plans.
> 
>  
> 
> In an effort to avoid a too-short chapter, I'm consolidating Parts Four and Five.

_\------------------------------------------------------------_

_"The voice of my father, still loud as before. It used to scare me but not anymore." ~Poe_

_\------------------------------------------------------------_

_**November 31, 2024 4:22:45 AM** _  
  


Meg closed and locked the giant metal door behind her. The sounds of screaming men and women were immediately muffled, and she turned and walked down the long hallway towards the room that Lucifer had set up as his lounge of sorts. She took a rag from her back pocket and wiped some of the blood off of her hands. The things that she had been having to do to keep up appearances to Lucifer were horrible. There had been a shift in her nature, and she was making herself sick. She was amazed that she had developed the ability to flip her conscience on and off. It was a good thing, too.

She couldn't number the people in the different places that she should have been able to kill in several different ways, but they just wouldn't die because Lucifer wouldn't let them. People that were no more than muscle and bone, endlessly screaming. No death would come for them. It made Lucifer feel like he'd really won. He had finally gotten what he wanted; absolute power. Meg never imagined that it would be like this. When all was said and done, she thought that there would be some sort of peace. A _perversion_ of peace, but still not this. This was just another Hell.   
  
Lucifer gazed up at her when she reached the doorway to the lounge, and then he smiled and beckoned her over to come sit next to him. She hesitated for a moment and then went and threw herself down at one end of the big, cushy, red couch. Lucifer slid over closer to her and chuckled, "I love hearing them screaming for mercy. Mercy that only _I_ can offer," he said patting her knee paternally.   
  
Meg ignored the hand on her leg, "Is this all we're going to do? See if we can reduce them to skeletons before they stop howling?" She suppressed a shiver that threatened to shake the whole of her meat-suit.  
  
"That is a wonderful idea!! I wonder what sound they'd make with no lungs?" Lucifer was delighted at such a gory thought. His grin could freeze the blackest of hearts.  
  
"There has to be a greater purpose to all of this. What is it that we're trying to do by keeping these people alive?" she fidgeted, and tried to press herself back into the  couch as far away from him as she could. "What is the _purpose_ this is serving? That _I_ am serving?"  
  
Lucifer's gaze turned cold as he snapped, "You'll serve whatever purpose I decide you will serve, _Azaelim_. Don't forget who your master is. I made you what you are now. Strong, powerful, independent...To a point." Meg set her jaw and turned her eyes downward. He laughed and clapped his hands together, starling her, "You still have a thing for lost causes, don't you? Just like that human man you sold your soul for. He moved on and forgot about you as soon as your heart stopped beating. You think that Castiel will be any different? You think that he sees anything in you besides an abomination? You seem to forget. There is no Magge anymore. Just a demon called Meg, and that's all you'll ever be."  
  
She felt a slight sting in her eyes, but quickly composed herself. She knew Lucifer was just trying to manipulate her into doing whatever he wanted--which so far she had done, begrudgingly--and he wanted to silence her questions. Still, her mind went back to a freezing English day, to a seventeen year old girl named Magge in a ragged, patched up dress. She could hear the growls and snarls of invisible beasts, and she could feel the cold, dirt road underneath her back as she landed hard with fetid breath in her face, and claws in her belly. She _had_ given everything up for a lost cause. She did what she thought was right, and she died for it. Weak, shaking, cold, alone, and powerless to stop the inevitable. 

Lucifer pulled her out of her thoughts, seeing that he had gotten to her. "You're much better off with me, Meg. You are in a position of power! Just don't forget," he stood and straightened the lapels of his blazer, narrowing his eyes at her, "I can rip all that power away, and make your last stint in Hell look like a trip to Disneyland." He turned and walked out of the room, humming the music from "It's A Small World", using his fingers to conduct an imaginary choir.  
  
Meg hadn't realized when she'd started holding her breath, but breathed in deep and then sighed it back out again. She placed her head in her hands and tried desperately to think of a way to get herself out of this situation. She could smoke out--drift around the world for a little while, then settle in a new meat-suit. Maybe by that point Death would have gotten Castiel's help, and gotten his scythe and ring back. Her thoughts swirled around Castiel. Was he helping? Was he even aware of reality?  
  
"No," she said aloud to herself. "Castiel is fine, and Death found him. They should be on their way. Castiel will find us." Speaking it made it seem more true. They would set things right. Then people would start dying again, and things could go back to normal. She had to keep telling herself that. She wasn't sure when it had happened, but somewhere inside of her the smoke was starting to clear and who she once was had begun to reemerge. Lucifer was wrong, Magge was still in there somewhere, and Castiel could see her. He would be there soon, and then together they'd put an end to the madness. Castiel would help her.  
  
She shook her head, knowing that her next move could be her last, and she might as well not let it go to waste. She went back down the hallway to the metal door. She unlocked it, and opened it wide. "If you can run," she called out, "run fast. Door is that way." She pointed and said, "I won't stop you." She turned and started walking in the direction of the doors as people barreled past her. _I_ can _run, and I'll run as far as I can go, and keep running. He'll always find me, but I'll just keep running,_  she stepped out into the cool morning air. _Hurry, Cas,_ she repeated to herself over and over, _hurry_.  
  
_\--------------------------------------------------------------_

_**November 31, 2024 6:19:54 PM** _

"Not that I do not appreciate that you have a vehicle in working order, Castiel, but is it possible that we could perhaps go faster?" Death sat with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Castiel's truck ran well for it's age and wear, but it topped out at fifty, and there wasn't much that Castiel could do about it. The heat was also out in the old clunker, and Spokane was particularly frigid that night. Death was not used to being uncomfortable in any way, shape, or form. "We've been driving for days, with little to no information on where Lucifer is. It feels more like years," Death huffed.   
  
"I'm sorry," Castiel said, wearily. He wanted to help Death, and in turn get Sam and Dean back, but the Horseman was slowly wearing down his patience. "It's becoming more difficult to follow Lucifer's trail. He knows that we're not far behind him."  
  
"As much as I would enjoy the fact that he's concerned that we'll locate him, the longer he has my powers the more unbalanced everything becomes. Even in human form I can sense it," huffed Death. "Look, there," he said, gesturing to the dark silhouette of an old service station, "Do you suppose they might have some of those lovely canned sausages?"  
  
Castiel spared a glance at Death, "You're upset our search is taking so long, but you want to stop for canned meat?"  
  
"Well, yes. I used to enjoy eating for leisure, now I must eat out of need," Death rolled his eyes, and waved his hand to the right. "Pull over. Perhaps you can see if you can't figure out a way to make this rattletrap move faster."  
  
Castiel sighed exasperatedly and muttered under his breath Dean's old favorite phrase, " _Son of a bitch_." He pulled the truck over next to the gas pumps. Death got out, grabbed a flashlight, and strolled up to the doors of the building. The glass had been busted out of them long ago, so he simply stepped through and went to perusing the shelves. Castiel turned his attention to the truck. He knew there was no way to make it go faster, but he figured he might as well siphon out some gasoline, just for the sake of having it if he needed it. He was a few minutes into this task when he heard tires screeching behind him, then headlights flashed over his back. He whipped his head around to see what was going on.   
  
A beaten up, rusty-looking Honda Civic flew into the parking lot and halted jerkily in front of the gas pumps opposite of Castiel. A small man, clothed only in a torn and bloodied pair of jeans, jumped out of the car and shakily started siphoning his own gas into the Civic's tank. It was hard to see in the slight glow cast by the truck's headlights, but his dark hair appeared disheveled, and matted down with blood in some spots, and the whole of his upper body seemed to be covered in wounds ranging from minor cuts to deep gashes. It looked as though the man had been tortured.  Either that, or he got into a fight with a grisly bear, and the grisly nearly won.  
  
"Sir, are you alright?" Castiel called to him. The man's head whipped up, his eyes large and frightened.  
  
"I..N-no. I just esc-scaped. She let us g-go. Sh-she let us all g-go...Doesn't m-make sense. She d-did, though. Let us all go..." the man stuttered, wild-eyed and confused looking.   
  
"Who?" Castiel thought he knew the answer, though he asked anyway.  
  
"N-never knew her name," the man threw the cap on the gas tank and wen to climb back in the car.

"Wait!" Castiel ran and prevented the man from closing the door, which frightened the small man a little, but Castiel put his hands up, conveying clearly he wasn't going to hurt the man. "Where did you just come from?" he asked urgently.

"Riverton. Wy-wyoming. Don't g-go there. Nothing but a night-nightmare there," he said. "Gotta r-run. R-run fast..." he visibly shivered, and Castiel backed away from the door. The man was gone as swiftly as he had sped in, and Castiel watched behind him with a look of stunned hope on his face.  
  
"What was all the commotion, then?" Death said, emerging from the service station carrying an armful of canned food and water.  
  
"We have to go. Now!" Castiel said firmly.  
  
Death's eyebrows shot up and he dropped a few of the cans as he ran to the passenger side of the truck. They were out on the highway in the blink of an eye. "Where are we headed to?" Death asked, excitedly.  
  
"Wyoming," Castiel slammed his foot down on the accelerator.  
  
"What the _hell_ is in Wyoming?" Death gave Castiel a skeptical look.   
  
"Hell," Castiel answered, "Hell is in Wyoming."

  
  
 

**Part Five**

_"She feels like a stranger has come in the night, stolen her life, and left her with this." ~Man Man_

_\--------------------------------------------------------------_

**_December 1, 2024 08:47:02 AM_ **

The run-down motel was one strong gust of wind away from toppling over, but that didn't matter to Meg. She had made it a few miles away from Lucifer's compound, and the only structure she could find that was solid enough to hide in was the motel. She'd busied herself with painting sigils of every kind on the door, walls, and the window. Lucifer would be coming after her soon, or sending demons to find her, and she wanted to be sure that she was well hidden, and protected. Part of her regretted not letting Castiel put the protection sigils on her ribs, or somewhere else on her body, but that regret had come too little too late.

She shook the dust off the comforter of one of the beds, sat on the floor with her back against the wall opposite of the door and window, and wrapped the comforter around her. She sat like that for an hour, quietly going over escape plans and battle strategies in her head. Her left leg had gone to sleep due to her sitting on it and her memory flashed back to the night that she had found Castiel in the cabin. It had only been a few months ago, but it felt like decades had passed since then. "Maybe that's just a side effect of being stuck in the pit for so long," she grumbled to herself. "Time flies by, and still feels like it's crawling."  
  
She stood up, hobbling a little while blood flow rushed to her leg, and she went to check inside the mini-bar to see if there was any alcohol at all left there. She was bored and nervous, and those were never good combinations. She found one little bottle of gin, had opened it, and was about to drink it down when she heard tires spinning over the gravel in the parking lot. She ducked down next to the window, and listened as the engine cut, and two doors slammed. "No time like the present," she said as she tossed the alcohol back, and then mustered the courage to look out the window. "I'll be damned," she rose and threw open the door. "Castiel!"  
  
Castiel's head turned slowly to look at Meg, as if he was afraid she was just an illusion, and if he looked right at her she'd vanish. When she didn't disappear Castiel walked hurriedly towards her. Death trailed behind, carrying the items that he'd lifted from the service station. "Meg," Castiel said softly as he reached her, and he hugged her to him tightly.  
  
"I'm glad to see you, too, Clarence. Breathing room? How in the hell did you find me?" Meg squeaked.  
  
Castiel pulled back a little, but didn't let her go. "This was the first building we came to. I was going to check for survivors. There was...A man we encountered and he said to come here. Are you alright?"   
  
"Yeah," she said, nodding.  
  
Death groaned. "This is a touching display, really, but now is not the time for reunions and rendezvous. Demon, where is Lucifer? Where are my possessions?" Death's tone went from bored to angry in seconds.   
  
"At a compound a few miles from here. I let everyone go that I could, but some people were..." she opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to find words to explain what she'd had to do.  
  
Realization passed over Castiel's features. "Not before damaging them, apparently," Castiel said, sounding more disappointed than angry.  
  
She stepped back away from him, "What else could I have done? I spared who I could. Lucifer was breathing down my neck, meanwhile I'm wondering what you two have been up to. What _have_ you been up to?"   
  
"We've been _trying_ to find Lucifer. More recently, the clues as to where he was going became fewer, so...It took us a little longer, _okay_?" Castiel's patience was nearing it's end.   
  
"Whatever you say, Clarence," Meg rolled her eyes and leaned on the frame of the motel door.  
  
"Enough of this melodrama. Where is the compound, Demon?" Death sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache. 

Meg hated being called "Demon", it sounded so demeaning. She stood for a moment with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at Death. Castiel gave her a look encouraging her to tell them, and she shook her head in resignation, "It's close by the busted up, old Catholic school, on Mission. Just a few miles outside of town."

"Let's go. We can't know how long he'll stay there," Castiel said walking back through the door and to the truck. He let Meg climb in before him, and Death got in on the passenger side. Meg, sitting in the middle, looked to each of them, amusement on her face. "What's so funny?" Castiel said, nugging her shoulder with his as he turned the engine.  
  
"It sounds like the beginning to a shitty joke. 'An angel, a demon, and Death are all crammed in the cab of a truck,'" she said. To her surprise both men laughed. Meg looked a little surprised, and then turned her eyes to Castiel and smiled. "So, you understand..." she was having trouble saying what she wanted to, but she knew somehow that he already had gotten what she meant.  
  
"I know you did what you had to do, Meg. I know what that's like," Castiel said and met her eyes at briefly before turning his attention back to the road. "My powers are getting stronger," he whispered, "we should be arriving soon."  
  
Meg stared out the windshield, and as they passed the Catholic cemetery with it's haphazardly placed stones and wooden crosses placed there in the time since the Croatoan Virus took over and a chill ran through her.


	4. Part Six (Six Six)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel, Death, and Meg discover another part of Lucifer's grand designs, and the three find themselves facing a whole new horror.

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_"Feels so good but I'm old. Two thousand years of chasing taking it's toll, and it's coming closer." ~Kings of Leon_

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**_December 1, 2024 09:25:11 AM_**  

They drove as fast as Castiel's old truck would go, and soon they passed the Catholic school, and reached the old church on Mission Road. Castiel could feel his power pinwheeling around him and knew that he could take out a few demon guards by himself, but the grounds could be over run. Death, being human would have the hardest time, but Meg could hold her own. They passed by slowly, canvasing the area around the church. It was either a lucky break, or a calculated trap that there were no guards outside the building. Castiel pulled his truck off the road and into the dusty parking lot. As he cut the engine Meg sighed heavily, "Well, fellas. This looks like our stop."  
  
"There is something strange about this. Are you sure that we haven't missed them?" Death asked, opening the passenger door and climbing out, looking around them warily.  
  
Castiel furrowed his brow, and set his eyes on the door of the church, "I know that Lucifer is here...Somewhere. I can feel it." He climbed out of the truck and helped Meg down. Fleetingly, the thought flickered through his head that someone so slight shouldn't be as strong as she was, but then he reminded himself that was part of what he admired about her. As soon as her feet hit the ground Meg was charging forward towards the front doors. "Meg, we have got to be careful--"  
  
"Fuck being careful, Castiel," she called over her shoulder, taking him aback a little by the use of his proper name, "I want this over with." Castiel was suddenly in front of her giving her an almost pleading look. She threw her hands up on her hips and looked at him wearily, realizing how worried he was, "Don't, Feathers. Not right now."  
  
"Meg..." Castiel started, and then trailed off. His eyes searched hers for a moment, then he grabbed each side of her face and kissed her hard on the mouth. She stiffened for a moment and then kissed him back, remembering another moment when they were about to face danger, and for her, almost certain death.

After a moment Death cleared his throat beside them. "Heart-warming, truly. _Shall we press on_?" he growled.  
  
Meg, cut her eyes in his direction. Her last day on earth, and she was being pushed around by this old codger. "So sorry, grandpa," she drawled. She was really starting to re-think letting him live in the first place. Castiel opened the door and she stepped through, squeezing his hand as she went by. He followed shortly after her, leaving Death to catch the door for himself. Castiel was as ready for Death to have his powers back as Death was, and he still needed him to restore Sam and Dean, but he was at the end of his wits with the Horseman.  
  
The entirety of the compound Lucifer had created in the church was silent. No screams, no bells, no whistles, and no one greeted them. They moved through the corridors as silently as possible, Meg and Castiel on the ready for an attack from either side. They passed through the lounge that Lucifer had made, but it was empty and silent. Meg led the way down the hallway to the room that had held all the torture victims, but it was also empty, still, and silent. Only large stains from pools and pools of blood showed any sign that anything had happened there.   
  
She shook her head, "There's no way they could have moved on from here so quickly. There were twenty five or thirty people in here who couldn't move. Even with the man power Lucifer had, there's no way that they could have moved all of them this quickly. Damn it!" She slammed her fist into the large metal door that hung open next to her leaving a large dent.  
  
Castiel had been avoiding looking at the blood stains and spatters all over the room, which had, apparently, been the church's nursery at one point in time, long before Lucifer's re-emergence from Hell. Suddenly his head shot up, and his eyes narrowed. "They aren't far from here. I...I can see them."  
  
"What?" Meg asked, tilting her head in confusion.   
  
Castiel turned and moved swiftly towards the doors that only a day ago Meg, and many others, had escaped through. "I know where they are, Meg." The double doors shattered as Castiel threw up his hand, bursting them off of their hinges, and he half ran through them. Meg's eyes widened as she struggled to catch up with him, with Death at her heels. When Castiel came to an abrupt stop just outside the gates of an old cemetery Meg slammed into his back.   
  
Peering around him she sucked in a breath, "This place..." Castiel knowingly looked down at her as she said flatly, "It's the Devil's Gate."  
  
Death looked truly off his guard for the first time since Lucifer had taken his powers, "The situation is far worse than we had anticipated, it seems."  
  
Castiel reached for Meg's hand and Death's shoulder before they could truly react to it, and suddenly they were standing just outside of a semi-circle formed of humans who were in various stages of condition, ranging from those who were severely injured, those who should be dying, and those who should be dead but instead simply shrieked in pain and horror. Supporting them all were ten to fifteen demons, their eyes solid black. In the center of the semi-circle stood Lucifer, near the door of the Devil's Gate.

His gaze landed on the trio and he smiled coldly. "Hail, hail. The gangs all here! I'm actually glad you made it. Now, you'll see how _hopeless_ it is to fight me," his voice made Castiel cringe. It was Sam's voice, but not Sam saying the words. He wondered how Sam's soul was faring. Deep down inside that familiar form, there was still a Sam Winchester, and he was probably screaming. Lucifer turned toward the doors to the Devil's Gate and began reciting ancient words. He didn't require any weapon to open the doors; he was the devil after all. He could do as he pleased with what was his.

Castiel swallowed hard, and called out to his brother, "Lucifer, whatever it is you are planning to do, please reconsider. There is only chaos that can come from your actions. These things that you are doing...You will lose everything in the end, as well. Our father--"  
  
"Our ather _what_ , little brother?" Lucifer interrupted, stopping his chants and turning to look Castiel in the eyes. "God doesn't care anymore. I was right all along. He grew bored of us, and He grew bored of these pitiful wads of loam. I will never bore of any of it. I keep myself entertained. He should have given me the Throne when I wanted it." Lucifer turned his attention to Meg, "Hey, Meg. So you get to see the main event after all. Thanks for all the supplies," Lucifer said casually, indicating the torture victims with a tilt of his head.  
  
Castiel pushed Meg back behind him as far as he could budge her. This was only going to get worse, and he didn't want Meg to be the target of any of Lucifer's attacks, if he could help it. He would surely go after her for her betrayal if this argument escalated further, and though he knew she would battle to the end, he couldn't handle the thought of the outcome. Not after everything he'd already been through. Not now. "Your pride has always been your weakness, Lucifer. What you do now, _will_ be your end!!" he said, holding Meg back as best as he could. She pushed at his arm, wanted to stand at his side. _She'd die by my side_ , he thought.  
  
Lucifer laughed, loud and long. "Oh, Castiel. You are so naive, even now. Look around you! I _won_!! And soon, there won't be anyone in Heaven or on Earth that can stop me," he spun around and quickly whispered the last words of his incantation and the doors to the Devil's Gate burst open.   
  
Souls of the damned and demons came flooding out around him as he laughed. Castiel ducked down covering Meg, and Death hit the ground next to them. Souls and demons swooped all around them causing innumberable lascerations and scratches to whatever exposed skin there was on their bodies. Meg felt her hair being yanked in a hundred different directions. _"Get off me you bastards!"_ she yelled.  
  
After a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, two of the demons from the line dropped the people they were holding and shut the doors. "Ah," Lucifer sighed happily, and turned to each of them, "Thank you, Astaroth...Bael. We _have_ done it! Go now, gather your forces and instruct them on what they are to do." At that they disappeared, along with the rest of the demons, leaving the walking wounded and living dead to lay where they fell.  
  
Castiel, Meg, and Death rose slowly facing Lucifer. Castiel straightened his stance, squared his shoulders, and looked the devil right in the eyes, "Lucifer--" 

"Hush," Lucifer said, raising a hand. "You know, Cassie. I think I'll leave you little peons alive. Someone has to witness this, after all. I want this day to pass into legend."  
  
Death spoke up, finally, "Witness what, exactly, you arrogant bastard? What is this?"  
  
Lucifer scoffed, then joyfully pulled at the cuffs of his sport coat, "I'm finally going to get my throne." With that he was gone, his departure weakening Castiel, and leaving all three looking at each other fearfully.  



	5. Part Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Within his own body, with Lucifer in control, Sam begins his own rebellion.

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_"Our wrongs remain un-rectified, and our souls won't be exhumed." ~Muse_

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**_December 24, 2024 09:23:00 PM_ **

**_  
_** Jimmy Novak once described, to Sam and Dean Winchester, that having Castiel use him as a vessel felt like being chained to a comet. Sam found that he completely disagreed with that analogy. Having Lucifer inside his body was like being wrapped in lead, then thrown into the deepest, darkest, and coldest part of the ocean. The only difference, he thought, was that he could still hear and see everything that Lucifer made his body do. On the rare occasion, when Lucifer was feeling particularly cruel, he would let Sam _feel_ what his body felt. This usually only happened when Lucifer decided he was truly bored, and eviscerated someone with his bare hands, just to have something to do.

  


That was when Sam would start screaming; sometimes in anger, sometimes in anguish, sometimes in abject horror. He would threaten Lucifer with death, he would shower him with expletives, he would seethe with loathing, and he would break down in sobs. Most of the time, however, Sam would try to shut everything out. The things that Lucifer did, the thoughts Lucifer had, the things Lucifer said to him. He would be silent and still deep inside the physical form he had shared with Lucifer for far too long, now. Sometimes he wondered if he was even real, or if he had _always_ been Lucifer, and Sam, himself, was just some twisted thought Lucifer had given life to simply to torment. That was the way things had been since Lucifer took his body as a vessel again. At least, that's how it had been until recently.

Sam had witnessed Lucifer open up the Devil's Gate, and he knew what Lucifer planned to do next. A verse from Revelation rambled constantly through Sam's thoughts--

_And in those days shall men seek death, and shall not find it; and shall desire to die, and death shall flee from them._

Sam had seen Castiel, Meg, and Death there at the Devil's Gate, and it had awakened something. Sam gradually started pulling himself together. If he could somehow force Lucifer out, or at least gain control of himself for a moment, he might be able to help them stop Lucifer from the inside. The fear stricken looks on the faces of beings that had always been more powerful than him made him desperate, and out of that desperation he fought. 

Sam perceived that weeks had gone by, but his focus was on composing himself. He had to fight, he had to be strong; for Castiel, for everyone who was suffering, and for Dean, even though Dean was gone. As horrified as Sam had been at different times since Dean's death, he was never as horrified as when Lucifer had murdered Dean with Sam's own hands. Dean hadn't spoken a word to Lucifer. He only spoke to Sam, telling him to be strong, and that it was all going to be okay. To keep fighting, even if Dean himself wasn't around anymore, and that he would _never_ be fighting alone. Sam hadn't done what his brother asked of him. He just couldn't manage the guilt, the anger, the fear, and he couldn't find any reason to try. There _were_ no reasons to try, until now.  


Castiel, Death, and Meg had come to face Lucifer, knowing that they would likely be killed, just like Dean had done so many years ago. Unlike Dean, they had been spared, and that was solely because Lucifer wanted to show off. Sam knew that, just as he knew everything else Lucifer thought and felt. Lucifer could not be allowed to carry through with his plans, anymore than he already had.  Time was running out, and Sam had to do something. Lucifer would end up killing both of them with his plan.   


Lucifer was sitting silently on a partially broken bench overlooking a frozen lake. Sam had found that Lucifer liked ice as much as he liked fire. Either burned, just in different ways. Astaroth and Bael had just come to him reporting that everything was going well. Half of the surviving humans on the East and West coasts, respectively, were either possessed by demons, and doing the devil's work, or they were being butchered by those demons. They were working their way from the outside of the continent in. There were hoards of demons all over the world doing the exact same thing. Soon half of the earth's population would be alive, but hopelessly deceased, and the other half would be servants of Hell.  


Sam heard all of this, and it helped to focus him even further. When Astaroth and Bael vanished back to whatever corners of the planet they had come from, Sam did an experiment. He focused his energy on trying to move his pinky finger on his right hand--the hand on which Lucifer, now, wore Death's ring. Sam knew better than to think that he could manage to get that ring off with just his pinky, but it would be a test. If he could take control of that, then maybe, eventually, he could take control of his whole body. Sam struggled, cursing that he ever said "yes" to Lucifer in the first place, but then finally the little digit twitched upwards, just slightly. Then he managed to move it again.   


Sam heard Lucifer grunt, and Lucifer quickly took back control of the hand, clenching and un-clenching the fingers as if to shake off some numbness. Lucifer twisted Sam's face into a grin. "Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. You can only ever do what I allow you to do. Just..lay back! Enjoy the ride!"  


_You bastard_ , Sam thought, angrily, _I_ will _take my body back. You will_ not  _win this time. You hear me, you evil piece of shit? I'm going to take you down, if I have to go down with you, and you_ know  _that I will. I've done it before._  


"Sam, I do admire your spirit--really, I do--however, I  _do_ get sick of hearing you bitch all of the time," Lucifer stood and began walking toward a small encampment of people. The sound of Christmas songs rang out from inside the circle of SUV's, pick up trucks, and tents. They didn't know that Lucifer walked the Earth, they didn't know that he was right outside; the wolf at the door. "I have a special treat for you," Lucifer sighed, "just 'cause."   


Sam had to watch, listen to, and feel everything as Lucifer pseudo-slaughtered the entire camp. Sam screamed, as usual. The difference was, this time his scream was a battle cry, for he knew that one day he  _would_ be able to overcome Lucifer. One day.   


_\----------------------------------------------------------------_  


_**December 25, 2024 12:02:56 AM** _

"Merry Christmas, Meg," Castiel said, staring straight ahead at the highway they had pulled over on. Death insisted that he needed sleep, and couldn't do that in the crowded cab, so here they were on the shoulder of the road, in the dark, on Christmas morning with Death laying across the seats snoring loudly.

Meg sat down next to Castiel on the tailgate of his ratty old truck, taking in the blank look on his face. "Merry Christmas to you, too, Clarence," she said holding up a large bottle of Chartreuse.   
  
"Where the _hell_ did you get that?" his eyes were wide as he pulled the bottle into his hands.  
  
"Swiped it from that liquor store across the street from the apartments we found those demons in." They had been hunting down demons since Lucifer had opened the Devil's Gate. They'd saved quite a few people from a fate worse than death, but they still didn't seem to be making a dent in Lucifer's massive army. They were worn out and road weary. "Figured we could save this for a special event. You know...Special, like surviving another day on this fucked up planet?"   
  
"I see," Castiel laughed softly, and then he noticed that the top was sealed with a cork. He  started to set the bottle down next to him when Meg produced a corkscrew from her pocket.   
  
"Who loves ya, baby?" she said, grabbing the bottle and uncorking it with a "pop".   
  
"I don't know," Castiel turned the bottle up for a few seconds and then held it out for Meg to take it.   
  
She took the bottle from him, looking at him with confusion on her face "What don't you know?" she asked before realizing he'd taken her question literally. "Oh, it's a saying, Clarence." She rolled her eyes and took a few gulps from the bottle, feeling the liquid burn down her throat, warmth shooting through her veins.   
  
"Ah...I thought you were asking...Nevermind," he took the bottle back from her but didn't drink any more from it. "I used to know," he said quietly "I used to know who loved me. Who I loved. I used to know...So many things. All the things in Heaven and on Earth, and now there is just so much..."

"Silence," she said, finishing his sentence for him. "Yeah, I know. Look, you can't change what happened in the past, and you can't change who you decided was worth your love, even if they weren't really worth it in the first place. You can trust me on that one, Feather-Brain." She looked at the bottle in his hand, "Are you gonna drink, or not? 'Cause if _not_ , gimme," she reached out to grab the bottle, but he intercepted her hand with his. They sat there without speaking for a few seconds, then he pulled his hand back and pushed the bottle towards her.   
  
"My experience with love is far different than yours, Meg. I loved a great and glorious God, I loved my brothers. I loved Sam, I loved Dean. I even loved Bobby Singer, in a way. I loved..." he trailed off as he looked at her. She didn't seem to notice though, instead she was looking up at the stars a sad look on her face. "I loved them. Unconditionally, and what use was it?" He sighed and turned the bottle up, putting a few bubbles in it as he drank.   
  
"What use is _anything_?" she said finally turning her gaze to him. "I only have ever loved assholes who were happier without me, or happy to use me, then throw me away, or...Who's cause was bigger and better than mine, and I didn't fit into it. No one ever loved me. Not really."  
  
"You _really _believe that, Magge?" Castiel said, turning his whole body on the tailgate to face her.__  
  
"What did you just call me?" her eyes were wide with shock.  
  
"You were loved. You had a family. I'm not talking about those abominations that took you in after your human death, I mean your human family. Then, well...Dean and Sam never loved you, but they tolerated you. You helped us save the world. And me--You took care of me in their absence--More than once you saved my life. All of our lives. You are...loved," he tucked a straying ringlet behind her ear. "You just have to see it the way I do. See _you_ the way I do."   
  
She stared at him, unsure what to say or do. Finally getting some control of her heart back she laughed shortly. "You're fucking crazy, you know that?" she said, brow furrowed. How in the world could he say all those things and mean them? How could he sit here and say those things to her, of all people? Who the hell did he think he was to make her feel these things?   
  
"I know," he smiled softly. "But, hey, I kind of like being crazy, if it means I get to spend time with you."  
  
"Yuck! Your pillow talk is shitty," she said taking the bottle from him and taking a few more dregs from the Chartreuse. She set it down and slid it back towards Castiel. She jumped down off of the tailgate and went to stand between his knees. She put her hands on top of his thighs and looked up at him. "But," she took a deep breath, "thank you, Feathers." She kissed him on the cheek gently, and he closed his eyes.   
  
When he opened them a second later she was gone. He looked down sadly at the place where she had been standing, then to the bottle, "She _will_ be back. She _will_." He chugged from the bottle a few seconds, hearing the door of the truck open and close. Death's snoring halted for a moment and when he looked around he saw Meg coming back toward him. His eyes lit up, and he looked at her confused. 

____

"I just went around to the side of the truck, Clarence. No need to despair. Here, pack of smokes," she said, handing him the cigarettes. "Forgot about getting these. Thought you'd want 'em, since you smoke when you drink."  
  
He took the pack from her, lit up a cigarette, and sighed happily. Castiel patted the tailgate next to him and she climbed up crossing her legs and leaning back on her hands. They passed the bottle back and forth for hours, sharing cigarettes and talking about where they'd rather be. Then, though Meg really didn't care, Castiel told her stories of Christmases past, and things he'd seen throughout the years. He told her where Christmas _actually_ came from, and that Jesus Christ was born in Spring, so he was confused about why so many of the Judeo-Christian faith celebrated a pagan holiday in honor of God. They kissed every now and then, and kept each other company, until the bottle was gone, and the stars were fading into daylight.

It was around that time that they heard a hacking, coughing sound, and the passenger door of the truck creaked open then closed. They both turned back to look at Death. "Children," he said sounding hoarse. "I seem to have fallen ill. I'm sure that it's the lack of heat in this old jalopy. We really should see about procuring ourselves a better mode of transportation."  
  
Meg and Castiel turned back to look at each other. Castiel's features seemed pained, while Meg just arched an eyebrow and rolled her eyes. She jumped off the tailgate and Castiel followed behind Meg to get into the truck. "Alright, Alfred, back in the Crap Mobile. We'll go get you some blankets, and hope that we find some cold medicine that won't half-kill you," then under her breath, " _Or_ will _half-kill you._ "   
  
"Meg," Castiel said, looking at her disapprovingly.  
  
"I know, be nice. I got it." 


	6. Part Eight and Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ends is drawing near, as Castiel races to stop Lucifer. 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I've combined Part Eight and Part Nine for length.

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_"This will never end cause I want more--more, give me more, give me more." ~Fever Ray_

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_**January 10, 2025 07:58:22 PM** _

Death was having a nightmare, or at least that's what it seemed like to Castiel. They were squatting in an old apartment building, and had found enough blankets and pillows to try to make Death comfortable. The cold that he'd caught had turned into pneumonia, but he was still well enough to fuss about Meg and Castiel's treatment of him. As long as that was the case, Castiel knew, they had a little time before Death took a turn for the worse. They had already gone through three hospitals trying to find antibiotics, but they had long ago been picked clean of anything useful to them.   
  
Time was growing thin for them. Meg tried to keep herself busy going out and hunting demons. Trapping them if she could, torturing them if it was necessary, and sending them back to Hell where they belonged. She'd gleaned enough information to know that there were people fighting back. Hunters that had survived were slowly combating the demon hordes that had been released from the Devil's Gate. Rumor had it, that a hunter from Camp Chitaqua had taken The Colt and killed Astaroth, and at least that was something. With one less Prince of Hell to deal with, that only left a legion of demons, Bael, and Lucifer to grapple with.

The demon had told Meg something else, though. He said that they had been given orders to congregate at a place in Ilchester, Maryland. Most of the demons from across the world had already made their way there, leaving thousands upon thousands teetering on the edge of death, yet unable to finally die. Meg mentioned the town's name to Castiel when she arrived back to the apartment, and concern immediately showed on his face.   


"What's the big deal about Ilchester, Maryland?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. This whole matter was becoming more and more frustrating, and sometimes, for only moments at a time, she wished she was still following Lucifer around.  


"Saint Mary's Convent is in Ilchester, Maryland. That is where Sam killed Lilith, and broke the sixty-sixth seal." Castiel looked at Meg confused, "Why do _you_ not know that?"  


"Am I supposed to know everything about demons just because I am one? I guess it slipped my mind," Meg shrugged. She was realizing there was a lot that she was never told about the grand plans of the higher-ups in Hell. She shook her head and kicked at a broken alarm clock on the floor.  


"I'm sure that's it," Castiel said sarcastically, and Meg arched an eyebrow at him. Neither of them had been in the best mood since Death had taken ill. He was much more demanding of them now than ever, and if they didn't get his ring and his scythe back soon they weren't sure what would happen to him.  


"How is he doing?" Meg asked, remembering that Death was sleeping there in the room with them. The last thing she wanted was to wake the Horseman.  


"There's been no change really. He was having a nightmare, I think, but now he seems to be resting peacefully," Castiel took Meg by the arm and led her to the living room. "We have to get to Ilchester. Whatever is going to happen, is going to happen there. We have to try to stop it."  


"That is suicide, Clarence, and you  _know_ it. That's the kind of foolhardy thinking that got ol' Deano ganked in the first place. Do you want to die, too?" Meg was vehemently angry. All this fighting to stay alive, all of this time spent trying to get Castiel back to actually living life again, and he wanted to throw it all away.   


" _I used to!_ " Castiel yelled. "I used to want to die, too. I wanted to die because my best friend, my brother...He was gone. Lucifer had taken Sam, _you_ were in Hell. I was all alone, and the last person that I had in this world was Dean. Then he was killed!!" he clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. "Meg, Death has told me that he can bring Dean back. He can save Sam, and he can bring Dean back. All I have to do is help him get his scythe and his ring."  


" _All_ you have to do is walk in there and let Lucifer  _kill_ all of us. There are hundreds of demons flocking to that convent, and we are going to walk right in there and we are going to die, Castiel. Do you hear me? Worse than dead, we'll be completely destroyed. Both of our meat suits have been dead for a long, long time. Thank goodness for them, or they'd end up like all of those other half-alive people. Where do you think I'm gonna go when I die, Feathers? Think I'm gonna get to go to the big mansion in the sky? Jesus, Cas!" Meg said throwing her hands up and turning her back to him. 

Castiel sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, "It isn't ideal, I know. We have to try, Meg. Please?" His voice sounded pleading. 

Meg let her head fall back until she was looking at the ceiling, as if the answers to all of their problems were written there. "We can't move Death around in your truck anymore. I'm gonna go hot-wire that sedan out there and see if it has heat. Start packing him up," she said, moving towards the door.  
  
"Meg, thank--" Castiel started, but Meg put her hand up and he stopped.  
  
"Do _not_ thank me for this, Castiel. I still haven't made up my mind if I'm going in with you or not. The last time I did something stupid to help you, I got dragged back into Hell. That was bad enough. I won't do that again," Meg slung the door open and passed through, slamming it behind her.  
  
Castiel rubbed at his temples. "That went well, Cas," he said to himself, "Really well." From the other room Castiel heard Death cough.

"Castiel," Death called, his voice raspy.  
  
Castiel walked swiftly back into the little bedroom where they had set Death up, "We're leaving soon. We're going to Ilchester, Maryland."  
  
"Ah, back to where it started," Death said, drawing in short breaths.  
  
"It seems that way," Castiel looked out the window and saw that Meg had the car running. Noticing him she nodded. _So, the car must have heat,_  Castiel thought. _Good._ Castiel stooped and gathered Death up in his arms. "Lets get you out to the car."  
  
"Finally, something better than that old heap..."  
  
"Save your breath, Horseman," Castiel said, his tone a little too sharp.   
  
"Fine, fine..."  
  
When they reached the car Meg helped Castiel lay Death across the backseat, and then she climbed behind the wheel. Castiel looked at her confused at why she was driving, and Meg rolled her eyes. "Get in, Angel-Face. Heard the saying, 'like a bat out of Hell'? We need to drive faster than you're used to."   
  
"Right," Castiel said, getting in the passenger seat. He buckled his seat belt, just for the hell of it.  
  
A few seconds later they were fishtailing out of the parking lot. Castiel looked over his shoulder to see that Death was again sleeping, his breathing shallow, and he hadn't noticed the rough exit. They sped off down the highway in the direction of certain death, or a heroic rescue. Castiel wasn't sure which, but if it meant saving Sam, and raising Dean, then he would die trying.  
  
 

 

**Part 9(th Level of Hell)**

_"What if they find us? They're not looking anyway." ~Evelyn Evelyn_

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_**January 11, 2025 02:30:06 AM** _

Lucifer sat waiting patiently for the three AM to roll around. He'd start the ritual then. _Too cliche?_ thought Lucifer. _Maybe, but hey,_ _sometimes ritual is more about the pomp and less about the circumstance._ On his right hand was Death's ring, and in his left hand he held an amulet. It was remarkable that Sam Winchester had saved it all that time ago, carefully coiled up and stashed away in the ashtray of the rear passenger door of the Impala, opposite to the ashtray with the army man stuck in it.

Sam had been surprised that Dean had never found it, but then, Dean was never really looking for it, anyway. Once the two brothers had returned from Heaven, and Dean had discarded the thing for being useless--just as he had discarded their cause for being useless--Sam had a wave of sentimentality. Maybe Dean would want it back one day, but he'd never so much as mentioned it.

It wasn't long after Dean's death that Lucifer had gone to Chitaqua to retrieve the amulet himself. He'd found the Chevy under a tarp and a lean-to carport Dean had built to keep the car safe. Dean hadn't used it much after Sam had been taken by Lucifer--that much was apparent--but the old car seemed to still be in decent shape. _At least there's that_ , Sam had thought. Lucifer had just smiled, then gone on his way, in a good mood, having gotten what he came for.

Castiel had been wrong about the amulet so many years ago. It would never have burned hot in God's presence. The amulet _could_ be used as a protection charm, that was certainly true. Somehow, Bobby Singer had known when he gave it to Sam that he would end up giving it to Dean. The amulet, however, had another use. If the right requirements were met, it could be used as a conductor, not to _find_ God, but to _create_ a god. Lucifer would use it to become a god; in his mind _the_ God. 

Sam squirmed down deep where he was trapped within himself. He'd tried so many more times to gain control of his body since the day that he managed to move his finger, but Lucifer had him on hard lock-down. In truth, Sam was losing hope. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of Castiel, Death, or Meg since Lucifer opened up the Devil's Gate. He didn't know if they were even still alive, or if it was even worth trying to fight anymore. Lucifer's plans were all coming together, and now, it was only minutes until he completed the task at hand.

All of those poor people teetering on the brink of death, screaming for the release that dying would bring. Lucifer would release them from life at one, singular moment. He'd then activate the amulet, through which all of those souls would pass into him. With that power, he would then rule over the earth and all it's inhabitants. The human beings that were left would be enslaved to Lucifer's will, or slaughtered. Sam had seen what God-like power had done to Castiel, and to Castiel's vessel. Sam knew the inevitable outcome of what Lucifer was doing. They would both be destroyed, the only question remaining would be how long it took for the power within to become too much, and how much damage could be done in the meantime.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

_**January 11, 2025 02:45:52 AM** _

Meg, Castiel, and in the backseat, a very unconscious Death, flew up to St. Mary's Convent. The car skidded to a stop as Meg slammed on the brakes, and Castiel hoped that no one inside had heard. After a moment when no one rushed out to greet them, he assumed they were all too busy or too confident to care what that sound was. He gazed at Meg for a moment, unsure of what to say.

Finally, Meg peeled her eyes off of the road in front of her, and looked at Castiel, "I'm not coming in with you, Clarence. I'm not going to watch you die. _Any_ of you. It makes all of this...everything we've done? Pointless."

"Well...I can't make you do something that you don't want to do. Just...Remember..."

"Remember?" she asked. Then, when he still didn't continue, "What, Castiel?"

"Nothing," he shook his head, then looked back at Death laying still in the backseat. "Being this close to Lucifer, my powers are strong, I can probably transport us directly to the altar room. I'm sure that's where they'll be."

"Go on, then. Hi-ho, Silver, away. You don't have much time if you're gonna get Cling and Clang back. Lucifer's gonna do whatever it is he's gonna do at three. He's predictable in his panache. You have until then to stop him. If you can't, then..." Meg's voice trailed off, and she gave Castiel a stare that conveyed everything she suddenly found she couldn't say. _Maybe it will be better without the little tree-topper and the grim reaper weighing me down._ She closed her eyes tightly against the thought, because how could things be better without Castiel? Things really _would_ be pointless.  

"I'll try my best, Magge," Castiel said softly, but firmly, then he reached out a hand and touched Death. Meg blinked, and they were gone. She propped her elbows up on the steering wheel, and hid her face in her hands. This was the really the end of the world. The _real_ end. She'd just sent her only friend, the only being in the universe she loved, into the heart of battle, and here she sat in some soccer mom sedan.   
  
She knew she was about to do something stupid. Something really stupid, and incredibly brave. 

  
\---------------------------------------------------------------

_**January 11,2025 02:56:13 AM** _

  
Lucifer slowly raised the amulet over Sam's head, and straightened it. He looked at his reflection in a broken pane of glass and laughed. Deep within his vessels eyes he saw the pain and desperation of Sam Winchester, and it only sweetened the pot for him. "Sammy, you should be happy. You're going to be getting company! I'm going to become God! I will be worshiped and revered as I always should have been. This is a time for celebration!"  
  
"You're insane, Lucifer. You're going to destroy us both. You can stop this, you already have so much power...Just...Please, don't do this," Sam pleaded.  
  
Lucifer scoffed, "I don't have the power that I _want_. I want to be more than just an angel. I want to own Heaven _and_ Earth. What's so wrong with that, Sam?"  
  
"Arrogant _bastard_! Don't you see? You won't have either! We'll both be dead!" Sam wished that he was stronger. He wished that Dean was here.  
  
"Well, I suppose we're about to find out if you're right," Lucifer walked down the corridor leading to the hallway to the alter room. Demons were everywhere, and as he passed them, they all bowed their heads solemnly. He passed through the doors and walked up to the alter. To his right stood Bael,  who held a chalice to Lucifer. _Pure, innocent, baby's blood_ , Lucifer thought, _Lilith would be particularly pleased_. He tilted the cup and drank the whole thing down quickly.   
  
"One minute until three AM, my lord," Bael said, humbly bowing and backing away.  
  
"Perfect! Let us begin."


	7. Part Ten (All Hell Breaks Loose Again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demons have gathered around Lucifer for what he believes will be his ascension. Sam continues to fight for control, and Death and Castiel face the final fight.

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_"You wanna be the one in control. You wanna be the one who's alive. You wanna be the one who gets old. It's not a matter of luck, it's just a matter of time ." ~30 Seconds to Mars_

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**_January 11,2025 02:59:04 AM_ **

_"Perfect! Let us begin."_  
  
Castiel stood in the corridor, around the corner from the demons' sight, supporting Death's weight. He was nearly too late. Castiel knew that as soon as he'd heard Lucifer's words, then Lucifer began chanting. The words were in Enochian, but twisted to Lucifer's evil, and his will, it sounded like obscenities. Death groaned softly. It was taking most of his preserved strength and energy to stay as upright as he could. Luckily, Castiel's angelic strength was fully restored, being so close to his fallen brother. He knit his brow, _I have two fallen brothers in there, but I am only saving the one._   The thought hurt him, no matter how evil Lucifer was. 

"Castiel," Death whispered, "time..."

"I understand," Castiel set Death down gently, "I'll be back for you." He then set about the task of taking out as many demons as he could, as discretely as possible. Dean had been right, all those years ago, when he had said that using his angelic powers had to be "like riding a bike". Castiel had never ridden on a bicycle, but he knew enough of human kind to know that it was second nature, once learned. The thought of Dean, and his wise cracking spurred Castiel on even further. He eradicated even more demons; first those in the hallway leading to the alter room, then those standing at the back of the crowd. No one seemed to be noticing them drop, as all their attention was focused straight to the front of the room. 

  
_That's one thing_ , Castiel thought, _demons pay no regard to their surroundings or impending danger._ At least they _hadn't_ been paying attention until a certain demon, closest to his heart, came crashing through one of the stained glass windows with a roar. She grappled with a demon nearest her, came away with a demon knife, and started cutting her way through the crowd that was starting to attack her. Castiel silently thanked his father for the help, even though he was sure that He wasn't listening.   
  
Lucifer's chanting had halted, but only momentarily. Once he saw his rabble of demons slowly falling one and then two at a time he continued back to what he was doing without any urgency. He seemed sure that he'd prevail. The amulet around his neck had begun to glow, and then it had begun to burn. It's temperature was rising swiftly, and for Lucifer, well, it itched a little. Somewhere, deep in his prison, Sam was fighting, and he was fighting with everything he had. Lucifer could feel it, but he was too busy to worry about the boy. A wiggling pinkie finger was of no concern to him, at the moment.   
  
The demons numbers had been cut down to fifteen, and they were either fleeing like cowards, or falling fast. Castiel and Meg stood bloody, cut, and beaten, but they had eliminated most of the demon threat within the alter room. Unfortunately, there was still Bael and several more demons to deal with, and more would be coming. Meg lashed out at Bael with the demon's knife she'd stolen, and Castiel worked to get a good grip on the Prince of Hell, even as he fended off a few dozen more lower demons. The two were moving almost completely in sync, and soon Castiel's hand was upon Bael's head, just at the moment that Meg slammed the demon knife into Bael's chest. The demon fizzled out of the host, and the body fell to the floor.

Castiel and Meg stood staring at each other for just a moment before Meg said, teasingly, "Was that good for you, too?" She grinned at him, then they set to clearing the room. Castiel flung the doors shut, holding them with his powers while Meg took out the last straggler. Meg twitched her head in the direction of Lucifer. Castiel nodded once and they both turned to move towards Lucifer at the same time, running at him full speed. They were stopped when they hit an invisible force field. Castiel kept his footing but Meg bounced off a little and hit the floor hard. She grunted a in frustration, but was back on her feet quickly, "Damn it, we can't touch him." Castiel shot her a pleading look, and she wasn't sure if it was because she stated the obvious, or because he was in anguish, or both. 

"There has to be a way through!!" Castiel said, turning his attention back to the barrier between himself and Lucifer--a barrier that he couldn't see, but now that he focused, could sense all around.  
  
Inside the barrier Lucifer smiled and continued chanting the incantation. The amulet was burning white hot and from deep inside he heard Sam roaring in pain and fury, as he fought to surface and gain control. Lucifer just shook his head and kept chanting.  
  
Castiel racked his brain for a solution and threw all the power he could at the force field, losing his hold on the doors. It didn't matter at this point if more demons came flooding in, nothing Castiel could do was working. Meg was staring at him anxiously, trying to muster some of her own demonic powers, but she suspected that Lucifer had her bound somehow. She felt useless and she knew Castiel was losing steam, as well. Suddenly they heard a dull thud, and turned around expecting to see more demons, but instead it was Death, who had mustered up some of his remaining strength. He dragged himself into the room, only to fall in the doorway. Meg went over and helped him stand.   
  
The amulet was blistered into the seared skin on Sam's chest, Lucifer felt that it burned deliciously. This was the moment that he had been waiting for. He would become the new God.  
  
It was a split second of celebration for him, and then suddenly, he was pushed back. Samuel Winchester had taken back control. 

Castiel watched as Lucifer stopped chanting and froze for a moment, then the force field fell, as he pulled the amulet over his head and threw it to his left. "Lucifer?" Castiel whispered.   
  
Spinning around slowly, deliberately, Sam faced Castiel. "No. It's me, Cas," Sam said, breathing erratically. He held Castiel's stunned gaze for a moment, then looked to Meg and Death. _Death! His ring_ , Sam looked to his right hand and threw the ring off, tossing toward Meg. She quickly snatched it up off of the floor and slid it on Death's finger. Sam was having to fight hard, but he was still holding on, as he drew the scythe out of the blazer's pocket and slid it across the floor. Meg put the scythe in Death's hand, wrapping his fingers around it, and the old Horseman started to get some color back into his face. Sam fell to his knees, with a cry.   
  
"Sam!!" Castiel began to rush to his side, but Sam held a hand up.   
  
"I can't hold him back very much longer!" he doubled over, pain etched across his face.  
  
"You won't have to," said a voice familiar to Sam from the back of the room. Castiel's head snapped around. There in the doorway stood Adam Milligan--at least the shell of Adam Milligan. Meg stepped back in confusion, still somewhat helping Death, who was teetering, but healing. Castiel's eyes widened in shock as he looked past the vessel to the angel underneath, "Michael?"  
  
"Hello, Castiel. I'm here for our brother."   
  



	8. Part Eleven--Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone unexpected arrives to save the world. 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for reading!

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_"Home...You're so far away, come on home." ~Puscifer_

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**_January 11,2025 03:15:16 AM_ **

"Michael, you can't," Castiel pleaded, dreading Sam's demise.  
  
"Sorry, Cassie. God's orders," Michael said stepping forward slowly, as Sam still fought to keep Lucifer down. 

"What are you talking about? God doesn't--" Castiel started.  


"Oh, I _do_. I do care, Cas." Castiel all but seethed with rage as Chuck Shurley entered the room, somehow managing to look powerful yet humble. "I do care, a great deal," he said.  
  
Castiel hadn't seen him since his last day at Camp Chitaqua. "You...You were there all along? _Why_ didn't you help me? Help us _all_! Dean died! Sam was taken! _Why?_ " Castiel cried, feeling drained.  
  
"What's the point of free will if I intervene at every turn? When it gets to the point of complete disrepair? Free will isn't a length of rope, Castiel. Free will...It's my faith in _you_."

The tears stung Castiel's eyes. Tears of loss, betrayal, and anger. Still, some part of him couldn't help but dare to hope. "Sam...Can Sam be spared?" he whispered.  


"Sam has done enough. Michael? Son, you know what to do," God said. Michael walked over to Sam who was losing his struggle for control, and had almost fainted to the floor. He touched his shoulder, there was the swooshing of wings and Michael was gone.  


Sam sucked in a deep breath of air and looked at Castiel, tears beginning to stream down his face. "He's gone," he sighed, "Lucifer...He's gone..."

Castiel turned his attention back to God as he heard Sam break into exhausted sobs. "What about Dean?" Castiel searched God's eyes for some sign that God would snap his fingers and bring Dean back.  
  
God, though he looked pained to do so, shook his head. "It's like I said, Castiel. I have to have faith in something, too. If Dean is going to come back, well, I know someone who has a promise to keep, and no matter how _pompous_ he can be, I have faith that he'll keep his word," God eyed Death and smiled, then looked back to Castiel. "Good luck, son. Try to forgive me? I forget how _young_ you are sometimes," and with that, the form of Chuck Shurley disappeared in a wisp of clouds.

"He's quite right," Death said, walking over to the discarded amulet on the floor. He picked it up and held it at eye level, looking at it curiously.   
  
Castiel helped Sam to his feet, feeling his powers waning from the lack of angelic presence. It's fade, along with the drop in adrenaline had him feeling very tired, very suddenly. "What are you going to do with that?" Castiel asked suspiciously.  
  
"Oh, Castiel, don't be so presumptuous," the Horseman said, disgustedly. "This is how I'm going to bring Dean back. I just need a little assistance."  
  
"Whatever you need--" Sam started.

"I'll need you to bleed on this a little. Before you ask, it has your blood on it from the burn you received, but this blood is tainted with darkness. We need your blood given freely. Really makes the resurrection stick," Death raised his eyebrows at Sam.  
  
Sam nodded. "Meg? I need a knife," Sam never broke his gaze from Death's face, but he reached out a hand towards where Meg still stood. She seemed as though she was still processing what was going on, but she walked over and handed Sam one of the knives she'd taken from the other demons around her. Sam drug the knife across the old scar on his hand--the scar that had kept him grounded when he was hallucinating that Lucifer had come back. He split his palm open, and blood began to trickle out of the wound. Death walked over to him, Sam clenched his fist, and blood dripped over the amulet.

"What happens now?" Castiel said looking curiously from Sam to Death. He had barely noticed that Meg had come up beside him and gripped him by the elbow, until he had spoken, and she had twitched a little. He looked at her in concern.  
  
"Got the jumps. Shut up," she said, shrugging.  
  
Sam wrapped his hand with a piece of torn cloth. He was trembling, and Castiel knew that he would need a lot of time to recover from the things he'd been through. It seemed that Michael had healed the wound on his chest, but the mental scars were deep. "What should we do?" he asked looking to Death.  
  
"You do nothing. I have all I need. Putting a person and their soul back together is no small feet, as I'm sure you're aware, Castiel," and then suddenly Death wasn't there anymore. He had completely vanished, along with the amulet.   
  
Sam exhaled a deep breath and looked at Castiel and Meg, "Thank you. Both of you."  
  
Castiel, for his part, said nothing, just looked at Sam with sorrow and relief in his eyes. Meg looked around the room, shook her head, "You know what, Winchester? I need a shot, a cigarette, and some new friends." She stepped into Castiel's arms and rested her head on his chest. Castiel placed a kiss on the top of her head and shrugged at Sam's confused expression.  
  
"Shot sounds...Really good, actually," Sam said, almost desperately, eyes darting back and forth between their faces. After a moment they all smiled, then broke out into almost hysterical laughter. The kind of laugh when you have seen and been through too much, and if you didn't laugh, you'd curl up and weep. They slowly made their way out to the car, and headed into the nearest town. There they found a bar, and they made themselves at home, waiting on Death fulfill his bargain and bring Dean Winchester back from the dead. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------ 

**_January 11,2025 05:43:24 AM_  
**   
Dean Winchester stood outside a bar in Ilchester, Maryland. He looked in through the windows on the front doors and saw three people drinking by candle light. Their expressions were sad, but expectant. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, smiling. _Sammy, Cas...Meg? Oh, hell. I'm just happy to see anybody right now_ , he thought to himself. He was nervous, but he pushed that down, and stepped through the door to the bar.  
  
The bell above the door jingled, and all eyes snapped up to the door. There was barely a moment's pause before Sam upended the chair he'd been sitting on, and rushed over to his brother, crying from joy and relief. "I'm so sorry," he said repeatedly.  
  
"Sammy...Hey, Sam," Dean put a hand on each of Sam's shoulders, and looked him square in the eyes. "It isn't your fault, Sam. And hey! I'm back now, you're gonna be okay. _We're_ gonna be okay."  
  
Sam swallowed hard, "Yeah. Yeah, we are, Dean."  
  
Castiel walked over to the brothers slowly, Meg following a little ways behind. "Dean," he said quietly.  
  
"Hey, Cas. Man, Death told me what you did to get me back. Thank you. To both you... _and_ Meg. Which I don't get, but..thank you."  
  
Meg nodded , and then went back to the table they were sitting at to pour herself and the boys a few more shots. Castiel clasped a hand on Dean's shoulder, not entirely unlike another time, long ago, when Castiel had brought Dean out of Hell. Dean reached out and brought Castiel in to hug him, then looked down at Castiel confused, "Cas...Is that my jacket?"  
  
Castiel looked at his clothes. "I don't think so. If it is, well, you weren't using it."  
  
"True, I wasn't. So," he said, clapping his hands together and moving toward the table, "Somebody going to pour me some whiskey and fill me in on everything, or are we just gonna stand around circle jerking all night?"  
  
Meg snorted in amusement. "He's brought back to life and immediately starts making dick jokes," she said, causing the boys all to chuckle.  
  
Dean smiled, filled with happiness previously unfamiliar to him as he thought to himself, _Home...I'm finally home._  
  



End file.
